Page 19 of Sweet Animosity

This man could destroy my life with a push of a button.

“I told you the truth. I saw nothing.”

“What do you know about his business?”

I shrugged but immediately saw his eyes zero in on the top of my thighs as my T-shirt shifted up with the motion. Once again, I yanked it down. Deciding the best lies were closest to the truth, I said, “I know the guy was into some shady shit… based on the files I filed for him as a temporary receptionist.”

“Did you ever see him move artwork?”

With extreme restraint, I kept my gaze on him, instead of letting my eyes flicker to the closed bedroom door to my side.

Fuck.

Is that what this is about?

The art forgeries?

I swallowed as I shook my head. “I’m certain he just hired me a few hours a week to make the office look legitimate. You know what those men are like. They think having a pretty receptionist is a sign of success.”

The Russian’s gaze once more trailed slowly down my body.

My legs clenched as I wrapped my arms around my middle. “I’ve told you everything I know, which is nothing. Can you please leave?”

He ran his hand through his thick, black hair.

At the warehouse it was bound at his nape, but now the close-to-shoulder-length locks were loose, giving him the look of a wild beast.

“It’s not that simple, krasivaya. You are still a witness to tonight’s… unpleasantness.”

My eyes widened. I snatched the closest thing I could get my hands on: a decorative bowl with potpourri from the coffee table. Raising it high over my head, I exclaimed, “So you are a murderer!”

Before he could respond, I backed away. “You’re here to murder me!”

If I could just get to the front door, I’d at least have a fighting chance at escaping.

His gaze narrowed as he stretched out his arm. “Not one more step toward that door.”

I froze. “You don’t have to kill me. I don’t care if you killed Abakar. I didn’t even like the guy! And his guards were grabby-handed assholes.”

His head tilted to the side as he crossed his arms over his considerably wide chest. I could see the outline of muscles across his torso and over his biceps through the black thermal sleeves. The man was a wall of iron.

“Did his guards mess with you?”

My brow furrowed. I knew I shouldn’t have shot-gunned that first glass of wine. It had definitely gone straight to my head if I was thinking the man sent to kill me sounded jealous. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. Now, will you please leave?”

“No.”

“Please don’t kill me.”

He rubbed the place between his eyes. “Stop saying that. I’m not here to kill you.”

I lowered the bowl. “Are you saying you’re not a murderer?”

One eyebrow rose over his dark gaze. “I didn’t say that.”

I raised the bowl over my head again. “What the fuck!”

He spread his arms as he slowly circled the living room. “Strictly speaking, I’m not… not… a murderer, but I didn’t kill anyone tonight. At least not yet.”

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